


Truths Revealed

by aknymph



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Fix It, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, buckle up friends, independent Alina, of sorts, only have the faintest idea of where I'm going with this, so I will add more tags as I go, this has barely begun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknymph/pseuds/aknymph
Summary: Disclaimer---I'm not a Malina fan, but canon is that they are together, so this starts that way...Alina has a lot of untold truths. This is the start of her revealing them (to herself, others, and the world)."She’d thought losing the option of him would make the choice obvious. It hadn’t."
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Truths Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up during the events of KOS. Mal and Alina have different names, Dimitri and Milena, respectively.  
> I've started several different transitions from KOS, but Alina kept turning out weak in those renditions, so I kept writing new versions. This is finally one I like, though I'm less sure of how to transition it to where I want it, so we'll just have to wait and see how it develops from here. Wish me luck!

He found her standing by the window that overlooked the meadow-- _their_ meadow-- where the children were playing.

“Milena, there you are,” relief clear in his voice, “I wasn’t sure where you’d gone. The children were having so much fun playing--” His words died as she turned to face him. She wasn’t sure what he saw there, but it was clear he was shocked.

“Lena?”

“I want you to be happy, Mal.” He made to interrupt her at the use of his true name, but she held up a hand, giving him a look that she hadn’t used since leading the Second Army, one of determination, of resolve. 

“I want you to be true to yourself.” He did interrupt her at that, “And you believe I’m not being true to myself now?” He was indignant, and for good reason--he could tell something was coming, and he was trying to prevent whatever it was. How could he, though? It had been coming for far too long.

“Oh, come on, Mal,” she knew she shouldn’t get side-tracked, should speak her mind before he railroaded her like he always did. He meant well, but Mal always tried to fix whatever she was feeling, and feelings weren’t meant to be fixed. 

“You and I both know that this was never the life you pictured for yourself. Settling down, maybe, but running an orphanage? Rare social interactions beyond that of the children and the staff? Barely hunting? This isn’t what you had in mind for your life.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, things _changed_ \--” his sneer of the word cut Alina deeper than she could have imagined, but she’d known it may turn out like this; they so rarely spoke of the path that lead them here-- “when you became Grisha, _things_ like me deserting the First Army, _things_ like fighting to keep you from becoming the captive of a psychopath, things that led to _both_ of us losing our abilities, so yeah, _Alina_ ,” he spat her true name, “this isn’t quite the life I pictured for myself. BUT--” he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, composed himself, and began again, calmer this time-- “But I did picture a life with you, and that is what I have.”

Oh, she was pissed now. ‘ _When she_ became _Grisha?' Did he hear himself? She didn’t_ become _Grisha, she was born Grisha_. And saints, that temper of his. It gave her whiplash more than she’d like to admit, but he’d sidetracked her. Her point wasn’t about him, or about arguing this with him. She’d already come to her conclusion.

“You don’t get it, Mal, I didn’t become Grisha, it’s who I had always been, but I’d shut it out. _Don’t_ interrupt me again.” This time the look she gave him was one of fierce command, and surprisingly, he obeyed. “I'm tired of shutting out who I am. And just like _I_ don’t want you to be untrue to yourself, I’d hope you wouldn’t want _me_ to be untrue to myself.” There it was, her words were finally out.

She held his stunned gaze as she waited, but no words left his mouth, so she continued on. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Mal. I can’t pretend that I am happy--I’m not. I put on pretty smiles, play with the children, run this household, hold you in my arms, but it’s too exhausting to pretend anymore.” 

“You’ve been _pretending_?” The hurt in his voice was evident as he all but whispered the words, but she hadn’t expected him to sound so...weak. “I know you’ve been hurting, Alina, we both have, but we’ve had happy moments. Haven’t we? You love the children. You love me. Right?” his voice was almost pleading now. 

She stepped to him, needing to close the distance. “Of course. _Of course_ , I love you Mal, but it’s not _enough_. I thought it would be, but it’s not. The fleeting moments of happiness are not enough. And the love I have for you will always be part of me, part of us both, but it’s not what I thought it would be. We’re all secret giggles, and tender embraces, and that isn’t what I thought we would be.” 

“I-- We’re not enough? Our love isn’t what you thought it would be? I-- I don’t understand.” His heart was breaking, Alina could tell, but she had to finish this, once and for all, even if it also broke her heart in the process, even so, her voice faltered as she tried to spit out the words. 

“I thought--” Images flashed through her mind then, her body pressed against a door, kisses stolen in the dark, a man holding her to him even though he was nursing a gash to his side, a secret name spoken in quiet whispers. She blinked back the images as she’d blinked back her tears these long years without him. She wanted passion. She wanted someone who would push her, challenge her, not tiptoe around her. She wanted to be loved recklessly, with complete disregard for what that love might do to the rest of the world. She’d thought Mal would be enough. She’d thought losing the option of _him_ would make the choice obvious. It hadn’t. Three years had passed since she’d slid a dagger into his heart, and with it, her own. She tried again, “I thought our love would be enough. Our tenderness. Our shared history. But I’m empty Mal. I’m empty, and I need to find a way to fill the hole.” 

“And once you fill it, you’ll come back.” It wasn’t a question. He’d stated it as if that was the obvious answer, all weakness in his voice now gone. How was she failing at this, at telling him goodbye when it’s where her thoughts had returned over and over again? It’s what she had practiced in her darkest moments. She had to be strong. She had to do this. 

“No, Mal. I won’t come back. _If_ I find a way to fill the hole, I imagine I’ll have to work everyday to keep it full, little by little, because life depletes us, and this life, it’s depleting me faster than I can refill myself. I’m sorry.” She reached for him, to place her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled back. 

“Mal.” This wasn’t the way she wanted things, but what had she expected? That he would smile and remain her lifelong friend? No, she knew it would be like this, that he would be hurt and angry. 

“Goodbye, Alina. I will remember my wife _Milena_ fondly. Maybe one day she will return to me.” 

And it hit her then, that was the problem, wasn’t it? They’d taken on new names, new personas to hide who they had been. To protect themselves, yes, but also to run away from the truth of who they were, what they’d done, and the pain that came with it. The moment they’d taken on new names, they’d taken on a falsehood too great to bear. 

“I will remember you both fondly.” Alina said. “Dimitri and Malyen will both keep a place in my heart.” She meant it. She had always loved Mal, and as her husband, as Dimitri, he had cared for her, even if it hadn’t been enough for her. 

Alina gathered the final pack that had been resting at her feet and made her way out to the stable. She’d already loaded the many saddle bags and satchels now attached to her simple mare. She pulled the final pack on, and mounted her horse. She tucked her thick white braid into her cloak and pulled up her hood. 

If she would have looked back as she rode away, spared a glance for the life and the man she was leaving behind, she would have seen it. But she didn’t look back, so the shadowed figure lurking in the shade of the house remained unseen. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a Malina fan, but I also tried to not project my opinions of Mal onto his character here...I can't promise that will stay the case in the future though...Also, I just needed Mal and Alina to not be together, so I'm glad to have released that burden from my heart.


End file.
